


A Multiple Choice Question

by TheVoiceofWrath (meet_your_fate)



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-14
Updated: 2011-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-16 23:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meet_your_fate/pseuds/TheVoiceofWrath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Luke uses the playground tactics. And they fail. Or do they?</p><p>This is fluffy and adorable, with just a little bad language and not much else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Multiple Choice Question

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I've had on LJ for a while, just bringing it over here. It was originally written for perdiccas at LJ during a Christmas in July exchange.

Sylar must be the most oblivious serial killer in the history of the world, Luke thinks.

Just what does a guy gotta do to get noticed around here?

Walking around mostly naked after a shower? Sylar just keeps doing what he’s doing, isn’t fazed by Luke’s near nudity. Which, really, isn’t very fair; Sylar walks around even partially unclothed and Luke’s brain implodes.

But, maybe that’s because he’s a hormonally charged teenage boy.

So, they’re eating at a diner, like usual, and Luke literally plays footsie with Sylar. Sylar just gives him a weird, almost confused look and moves his feet away. Luke sighs and just goes about eating his fries a drinking his milkshake. He even offers Sylar a taste of said milkshake, but Sylar just raises an eyebrow at him like the idea of drinking milkshake is literally disgusting.

Luke does a lot of sighing when it comes to Sylar. He’s tempted to tell Sylar that it isn’t about the damn milkshake, not really.

They almost get caught by agents and they hide in an alley to dodge them. Sylar yanks Luke into the alley and presses Luke against the brick wall there, trying to shield him from view or protect him or something. Luke doesn’t know the reason behind Sylar’s actions, but he thinks it’s awesome. He lets himself cling to Sylar, hands fisted in the man’s shirt, and he breathes him in deeply.

How Sylar misses being sniffed, Luke has no idea. Luke doesn’t exactly know the meaning of the word ‘subtle’.

Luke says that they should catch a movie sometime, and Sylar says that that isn’t exactly a great way to spend your time when you’re fugitives. Luke rolls his eyes and says that fugitives need to have fun sometimes, too. Sylar rolls his eyes, too, but they end up going to the damn movie. He must not want to hear Luke bitch about it. The movie is stupid and Luke feels a little stupid himself for suggesting it, but he’s sitting next to Sylar in a dark movie theater and it’s awesome. He’d sit through a hundred stupid movies for this opportunity. He actually tries the ‘yawn and stretch’ move. When his arm is around Sylar’s shoulders, Sylar rolls his eyes and sighs and crosses his arms, like Luke is being stupid. But, he doesn’t make Luke move his arm, so Luke leaves it there for the rest of the movie.

When they come out of the theater, Sylar’s in a mood. He doesn’t say a word to Luke all the way back to their skeazy motel. He doesn’t even say goodnight or bitch at Luke about anything; he just goes to bed.

Luke thinks he’s gonna have to draw Sylar a goddamned map because Sylar just isn’t getting it.

It’s incredibly frustrating.

Things kind of explode when they’re stuck in traffic. It’s hot out and there’s nothing good on the radio, so they’re pretty much just listening to the air-conditioning and the engine.

The engine isn’t particularly engaging, soundtrack wise.

Luke is tapping on the door, on the lip by the window, and Sylar’s grip on the steering wheel is getting more violent by the minute.

Luke, annoying boy that he is, just makes it worse by clacking a nonsense tune with his teeth. He really isn’t trying to cause problems; he just wants to break the tension, even if it’s in a bad way. It’s the building that gets to him, not the resolution.

All of a sudden, Sylar snaps like Luke knew he would. He yanks Luke over by the front of his shirt and meets him halfway.

That might sound like they met in a kiss; this is not what happened. It’s what Luke wishes had happened, though.

What does happen is Sylar glares at him from about an inch away, snarling a little bit.

“Will you fucking knock it off?” Sylar growls at him.

Luke is man enough to admit, at least to himself, that he likes it when Sylar growls. But, he files that away for later.

“Knock what off, Sylar?”

“You know what. Just stop.”

For some reason, Luke doesn’t think they’re talking about how annoying he is. But then Sylar lets go of him and straightens back up, putting his hands back on the steering wheel like nothing happened.

Luke is incredibly confused.

Then, that night, they go to get a room at a different skeazy motel and the perverted dude behind the counter get the totally wrong idea. Sylar’s eye twitches a little bit, like he might be trying to keep himself from killing the man. Luke, annoying little shit that he is, reaches back and smack’s Sylar on the ass.

Sylar blushes and Luke wonders just how hard Sylar would hit him if he said that Sylar is adorable. It might be worth it, though. In the end, he decides against it; he doesn’t want to be sleeping in the car tonight.

Sylar doesn’t speak to him the rest of the night. He must not have liked that little stunt.

Luke still thinks it was funny. And, as an added bonus, he got to touch Sylar’s ass.

They’re in a diner again, like they never eat anywhere else, and Luke is being incredibly childish. Like on the playground, when a boy pulls a girl’s pigtails because he likes her. Luke’s not pulling Sylar’s hair, of course, but it’s certainly analogous. What he’s doing is throwing things. Tiny balls of wadded up straw wrapper, in fact.

It isn’t making Sylar very happy.

Obviously.

Their waitress, middle-aged with heavy crow’s fee,t but the kind and matronly sort, thinks it’s just the sweetest thing, though. Like, a teenage boy flirting with a man is perfectly acceptable. Good on her for being open minded about that kind of thing. She hovers a bit, smiling and paying them extra attention. Not like she’s waiting for them to rob the place, but like watching it makes her happy.

But, the attention from her is just making Sylar more stressed. He doesn’t like it when people look at them.

Why he hasn’t made Luke quit yet, Luke has no idea.

By the time they leave the diner, Sylar has this angry, confused expression on his face, like he’s trying to connect the dots, but not all of them are there yet, like he’s only working with half the puzzle. They get into the car and, why time in the car is so weird now, Luke doesn’t have any idea. After a few miles, Sylar speaks.

“You’re making fun of me.”

…Huh?

“I didn’t say anything,” Luke insists, a little worried that Sylar might have killed someone with telepathy and not told him about it. Not that he was making fun of Sylar in his head. But he was totally thinking about him, is almost always thinking about Sylar.

“I never said you did. But that’s what this is, isn’t it?”

Luke thinks they might be speaking two different languages here.

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

Sylar sighs and doesn’t speak again, like he thinks Luke is still making fun of him.

Which is stupid. Luke thinks Sylar is perfect, couldn’t find a single mean thing to say about him if he had to.

But something is very clearly bothering Sylar and Luke doesn’t get it.

Sylar goes for a walk, leaving Luke alone in the motel room. Luke would freak out about being abandoned, but Sylar leaves all of his stuff there like some kind of silent promise that he’ll be back.

Luke wonders how Sylar can be observant enough to know about Luke’s abandonment issues, but too oblivious to notice Luke’s super obvious crush.

So, Luke is alone and bored and he really shouldn’t be left to his own devices. At least, not unless there’s something mildly entertaining on TV. He’s bouncing off the walls with nothing to do. So, he thinks. About Sylar, of course; what else can hold his attention for any length of time?

After some serious consideration, Luke decides that he’s going to have to spell it out plainly for the man to finally get it. Literally, write it down for him.

Luke grabs the crappy little note-pad and pen that probably doesn’t work and stares at that blank sheet of paper for quite some time.

Or maybe it’s about a minute and a half, but it certainly seems like a long time.

He can’t come up with what to write. He could draw a heart and put their names in it with a little plus sign between them, but that seems a little too cute. Sylar doesn’t seem like the kind that goes for cute. He could just write a note, something like ‘Sylar, I like you. –Luke’, but that seems too plain.

And Sylar would totally wad it up and toss it, without even acknowledging it.

Luke decides he’s gonna put a question on it, wants Sylar to think about all of this before brushing it aside. He settles on making a quiz of it. This is what he writes:

 

‘Given the fact that Luke is romantically and/or sexually interested in Sylar, which of these is correct:

A.) Sylar is interested in pursuing something romantic and/or sexual with Luke.

B.) Sylar is not interested in pursuing something romantic and/or sexual with Luke.’

 

He thinks that pretty much covers all of his requirements.

By the time Sylar comes back to the room, Luke has folded and unfolded the bit of paper about a gazillion times.

He’s having second thoughts about this. But, of course, Sylar sees the note in his hands and his curiosity is peaked.

“What’s that?”

“Paper.” Luke couldn’t manage to snag that answer before it tumbled from his mouth. Being annoying is entirely instinctual.

“Yes, I can see that, thank you. Care to clarify?” Sylar sits on his bed facing Luke’s and, indecently Luke, too.

Luke blinks. “I dunno if I should.”

“Is this more mocking? Beause, I’m getting kind of sick of it.”

“Jesus Christ, Sylar, I’m not making fun of you. I don’t know where you got that idea from, but it’s stupid,” Luke says, rolling his eyes.

Sylar raises a brow at Luke, as if asking him just who the hell does he think he is?

Luke sighs and stands up. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

He does, getting some clothes out of his bag and shutting the door behind him. He leaves that bit of paper on his bed, though, not wanting to be around when Sylar reads it. He knows Sylar isn’t gonna not snoop, not when he has no reason to do so. But when he comes out of the shower, that note hasn’t moved a millimeter and Sylar is watching the news like nothing bigger is going on here.

Which, apparently, is exactly the case. Luke picks up that note and sticks it in the pants he’s going to wear the next day and climbs into bed, bothered enough that things didn’t go according to plan to curl up there and wait for sleep to claim him.

The next day, Sylar acts weird. He doesn’t speak more than he has to and he doesn’t give Luke any dirty looks when he’s being annoying. Luke is starting to think he’s done something wrong. He’s waiting for the proverbial other foot to fall, but he kind of has the feeling that Sylar is waiting for the same thing.

The foot falls in the car that evening.

Sylar heaves a massive sigh and says, “Are you gonna look at it or not?”

They’re still not speaking the same language.

“Look at what?”

Sylar takes his eyes off the road long enough to throw a look that says ‘you know what’.

Luke really doesn’t. But then…

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out that note. He looks at Sylar for a clue if this is right, only Sylar’s really focused on driving. But there’s a microscopic blush there, high on his cheekbones, which Luke finds interesting, to say the least.

He opens up that note and… It’s different. Option ‘A’ is circled. Sylar must have done it while Luke was in the shower and took extra care to return the note to the same exact place Luke left it.

And Luke has been carrying this around in his pants all day instead of reveling in its awesomeness.

Luke blinks a few times, absorbing that information, before a huge grin erupts on his face and he turns to look at Sylar. “Why didn’t you say anything last night?”

Sylar shifts uncomfortably. “Because I thought it was another joke. I still think you’re just making fun of me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not making fun of you.”

“Oh, come on! No one actually does that ‘yawn and stretch’ bit. And all the other stuff; it’s like something right out of high school.” Luke raises an eyebrow at Sylar, who glances over to emphasize his statement. That, right there, is probably what makes Sylar remember that Luke is in high school. His jaw drops for a second, before his mouth clacks shut and he swallows. He says, “Oh.”

Luke rolls his eyes as he folds the note back up and returns it to his pocket. “Are we gonna talk about it?”

Sylar clears his throat. “I guess… If you’re for it and I’m for it, then not much has to be said beyond that.”

Good man. Luke doesn’t want to waste time talking, not now that they’re finally speaking the same language. He slides over, into the middle of the bench-seat, and presses his side to Sylar’s, like they’re a couple of kids at a drive-in. Even though Sylar is still driving, he raises his arm to wrap around Luke and pull him close, smirks down at him before looking back at the road.

Luke thinks this is hilarious and awesome.

He leans his face up to press a kiss to the corner of Sylar’s jaw, just under his ear.

Sylar makes a happy little noise and snags Luke’s hand, keeping his arm around Luke and lacing their fingers so Sylar’s palm is against the back of Luke’s hand.

Luke is content, genuinely happy, and it looks like Sylar is, too.

And that’s enough.


End file.
